Poison in the Pen

CHAPTER 5

It did not take Miss Silver long to discover that Miss Wayne really did very seldom stop talking. If her visit had been, as it was supposed to be, of a private nature, this might have proved trying, but in the circumstances it was extremely helpful. After even a short time in the house she found herself in possession of the life histories of nearly everyone in Tilling Green-their faults, their failings, the tragedies which here and there had broken the even tenor of village life-wartime losses, post-war changes-the births, the marriages, the deaths, and the departures, were displayed rather after the manner of a jigsaw puzzle. There was a fact here, a conjecture there, a sigh over some dereliction, a tear for someone missed, a speculation as to what can have occasioned some regrettable incident-Why after thirty years had the Farmers suddenly gone away?-Why had Lily Everett broken off her engagement to John Drew?-What was the real reason why Andrew Stone had gone to Australia?

Miss Silver sat knitting whilst the trickle of talk went on. The flow increased noticeably when the question of Miss Renie’s mysterious next-door neighbour came up.

“Such an extraordinary person. My dear sister was very loth to think ill of anyone, but as she often said, why should you lock your doors and shut your windows and never let anyone inside your house if you haven’t got something to hide? The Vicar says it is because he doesn’t like women. But how often has he got in himself-that is what I should like to know. And with the door of Gale’s Cottage round at the side-such a very odd place to have a door, only some of those old cottages do-you can’t help seeing who comes out and who goes in.”

Miss Silver’s interest was really very flattering.

“Mr. Barton lives there quite alone?”

“Oh, quite-unless you are going to count the cats.”

“He has cats?”

Miss Renie threw up her hands.

“Seven of them! Quite insanitary-I don’t suppose the house is ever cleaned! And such great raw-boned creatures- quite savage-looking! And all with Bible names-really quite profane!”

A little way back from the fire, young Mrs. Rodney was putting a patch on a small pair of grey flannel shorts. “David does go through them now that he is getting stronger,” she said in her pleasant voice.

Miss Silver smiled at her kindly.

“That must be a great comfort to you,” she said.

Miss Renie was spreading out the cards for a game of patience, using a board covered with green baize balanced precariously upon a three-legged stool ornamented with poker-work. She looked puzzled.

“Because he wears out his clothes?” she enquired.

Joyce Rodney laughed.

“Because he is so much stronger, and that makes him wear them out.”

“Oh, I see-” But she still looked puzzled. “Yes, I do see. And he is stronger, but there are so many things that can happen to a child, and one can’t help feeling anxious, can one? Now there was poor Mrs. Pavey-she lost six. You can see all their names on the stone in the churchyard, and a place left for her own, poor thing.”

The slight tightening of a muscle at the corner of Joyce Rodney’s mouth did not escape Miss Silver. She hastened to remark that little David had a very brown and wholesome look. When they were alone together later on Joyce said,

“There is really no need to worry about David now, I am thankful to say. Aunt Renie is so kind, but she is inclined to be over anxious and to take a gloomy view. She has never had any responsibilities, because Aunt Esther did everything, so she gets nervous. Only I wish she wouldn’t tell stories about people who had dozens of children and didn’t know how to look after them properly. It’s stupid to mind, but I can’t help it.”

Miss Silver rested her knitting in her lap.

“Mrs. Rodney-”

“Oh, please call me Joyce-everyone does.”

Miss Silver coughed.

“In a little while perhaps, if my visit is prolonged. At this juncture I think it would be imprudent to strike too intimate a note.”

“Oh-”

“It would be better if we are a little formal. What I was about to say was that Miss Wayne has talked very freely about a number of things that have happened in Tilling Green over a considerable period of time, yet she has not mentioned the death of Doris Pell or the fact that an inquest attributed that death to suicide.”

“It upset her terribly.”

“And you think she cannot bear to speak of it?”

“She was very much upset. Unfortunately Miss Eccles came in with the news and wouldn’t stop talking about it. I really thought Aunt Renie was going to faint. You haven’t met Miss Eccles yet, but she is one of those people who must know everything and then hurry on to tell somebody else. I suppose it is leading rather a dull life and not having any private affairs of her own. Anything in the least out of the way is something to talk about. But Aunt Renie and I were really fond of Doris. She was quite a clever dressmaker. She made the dress Aunt Renie is wearing, and she copied a coat and skirt for me. We were both too much shocked by her death to think of it as news.”

Miss Wayne returning to the room at this moment, the subject would have been dropped if she herself had not said in a small shaky voice,

“Oh, my dear, were you talking about poor Doris?” She turned to Miss Silver. “Such a painful subject-but you must have read about it in the papers. We went to the funeral of course. Poor Miss Pell was terribly overcome-she is the aunt, you know, and she had brought Doris up. The whole village was there, and the flowers were lovely.” She dabbed her eyes and the tip of a reddened nose. “You can understand how we feel about it. But I did not intend to sadden you with our troubles. Joyce should not have spoken of it. We must talk about something more cheerful. Valentine Grey’s wedding-now that would be the thing!” She addressed her niece. “I was telling Miss Silver about the rehearsal tomorrow afternoon. I thought we could just slip in at the back and see how it went without being in anybody’s way. Mettie Eccles rang up-rather waste of a telephone call, as she is our next-door neighbour, but she is a little extravagant about things like that, and they do mount up. But on the other hand, when you are busy it does save time if you can just have a call instead of going out of one house and into another and perhaps getting caught up in quite a long conversation… Dear me, where was I?”

Joyce looked up smiling.

“Mettie Eccles had rung you up-”

“Oh, yes-of course-how stupid of me! Esther always said I let my thoughts wander too much. Yes, Mettie rang up, and she said that Lexie Merridew isn’t very well. She is one of Valentine Grey’s bridesmaids, and it will be quite terribly disappointing if she cannot be at the wedding. Mettie said her dress is here, because Valentine was giving the bridesmaids their dresses. They are from Elise in Ledlington. And if Lexie really can’t come, Valentine was wondering about having Connie instead.” She directed a flurry of explanation at Miss Silver. “That is Connie Brooke. She and a friend keep the little kindergarten school that David goes to. So many business men who work in Ledlington have bought or built houses in this direction that there is quite an opening. Penelope Marsh comes over from Lower Tilling, but Connie has the last house on the Green. She used to live there with her mother, who was related to the Reptons, and now it comes in very nicely for the school and so convenient for David. Connie won’t look so well in the dress as Lexie would have done-such a pretty girl! And poor Connie-but there, we must not be unkind, must we? And she is just about the same size, so the dress will fit.”